Terminal Judaism

Without a Jewish education, what chance did our girls really have?

by Gila Davids

Life's challenges, I once read, are not meant to paralyze us, they're meant to wake us up to who we are. But first we need to realize we're asleep. Our wake up call was the sort that began with the stirrings of small discomfort that slowly led us to a blinding realization: Our Judaism was terminal.

Strongly identified, but with minimal Jewish education, my husband, Allen, and I wanted our two daughters to feel good about being Jewish while enjoying the benefits of the secular world. I walked them to their excellent, multicultural public school each fall, and we dipped apples in honey on Rosh Hashana. We had latkes on Chanukah, costumes on Purim and a Seder on Passover. We shared holiday meals and an occasional Shabbat dinner with our family and friends, who were both Jewish and intermarried couples.

We had been sleepwalking our way down the path of assimilation and our kids were following in our footsteps.

Those dinner discussions, more often than not, began to center on our Jewish values and identity. Given the pluralistic world in which we lived, how were we going to bequeath what we felt was relevant and meaningful to our children? Were we giving mixed messages? Allen and I began to realize we simply were not up to the challenge. We had been sleepwalking our way down the path of assimilation, our kids were following in our footsteps, and we knew we had to make a change.

Our abysmal Jewish education had led us to this precipice; it was likely to be the cause of at least one of our daughters marrying a non-Jew, ending two millennia of Jewish lineage in a heartbeat. Therefore, we sought to give them the tools to understand what we intuited but could not communicate: that being Jewish is special and worth treasuring, and most importantly, why. The only alternative, as we saw it, was a commitment to their Jewish education.

We had four Jewish elementary schools in town, all with great credentials. But it soon became obvious that the Orthodox school was brimming with the warm and receptive role models we sought. Although we were not an observant family, we wanted teachers who were committed to the mitzvot they taught and an atmosphere where joy accompanied authentic practice.

The challenge in deciding to transfer the girls out of public school and into an Orthodox Jewish day school was just the beginning. Our family became exposed to a whole new world, except that it was quite Old World and filled with strange customs...like kapparot.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the pages of the local Jewish newspaper one September day to a picture of my second grade daughter, just a few days into our Jewish day school experience, standing next to her white bearded principal who was enthusiastically twirling a live chicken over her head. And the ensuing phone calls from our relatives and friends who also saw the photo..."How can you allow your daughter to take part in such an inhumane, superstitious ritual?" "Who are these people?" "Have you lost your mind?" Then there were the ones who wanted to know what this was all about. "They still do this? I remember going for kapparot with my grandfather." "Does the chicken get your sins?"

While I could not yet answer the first set of questions, I set out to investigate to the second.

Kapparot, which is traditionally done before Yom Kippur, means atonement. A Hebrew word for rooster is gever which is similar to gevura, meaning strength. The purpose of this ceremony is to conjure within us, a sense of remorse for our sins and mistakes and to spur us to repent. Ideally, we face the truth about ourselves, feel humbled before God, and become inspired to restrain ourselves from future transgression with all our strength.

According to Jewish thought, God continuously sustains our existence; all of life is dependent upon His unceasing creative involvement. When we violate God's will, we actually distance ourselves from our Source of life. On what merit can we then expect God to give us renewed existence? If God was to judge us with His unadulterated gevura (strength), rather than tempering His judgment with mercy, then we, like the hapless chicken could also be faced with death. Only because of His kindness do we continue to live another year.

Ideally, this ritual is performed in the morning soon after dawn breaks and the rooster crows. Kapparot is supposed to wake us up. No, the bird does not absorb our sins. We have to take responsibility for them and commit to improving ourselves. Kapparot challenges us to face the difficult task of identifying our shortcomings and bringing them into the light. It challenges us to discover our essence. And it challenges us to return to our authentic selves.

Most remained loving and supportive and I understood the negative reactions were from a place of fear.

Enrolling our daughters in an Orthodox school began our journey back to authentic observance. It was also an awakening for our family and friends. Some distanced themselves, convinced that we -- in spite of our attempts to remain close -- had done the distancing. Most remained loving and supportive and I understood the negative reactions were from a place of fear. Fear that their comfort level would be threatened by our growing knowledge; fear that we would change and judge.

Within the very reason for the strain in these relationships we found the guidance and advice that helped to heal and strengthen many of these bonds. Our daughters' teachers and principal truly loved our family and wanted to help us at our level of understanding and desire to grow. They counseled us, taught us, arranged for tutors, and encouraged observant families to invite our kids for Shabbat. They even allowed their children to come to our home for playdates. In their kindness, acceptance, strength of commitment to traditional Judaism and love for every Jew, they modeled the very attributes that eventually served to heal and replace fear with trust.

The role models in our new school, like lessons of kapparot, challenged us to acknowledge our responsibility to show love to our friends and family, to understand the sacred heritage gifted to us, as well as to safeguard our daughters and the generations of Jews that we hope will descend from them.

Ten years later, the scene of my little girl and the chicken twirling ceremony is still vivid; it opened the door for our family to an encounter with Judaism alive with challenge and opportunity. Within this discovery, I found the answers to the first set of questions and many more, and I feel grateful for the awesome experience of God's abundant mercy and to be so powerfully inspired to change.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 12

(12)
Anonymous,
August 29, 2007 6:57 PM

beautiful article!

What an appropriate reminder to all of us as the school year begins and the new year approaches. Hopefully, Gila will contribute more articles!

(11)
Anonymous,
August 23, 2007 4:41 PM

Inspiring article!

Very inspiring article. Gives hope to me that we all have the potential to change and ability to learn from Torah observant models.

(10)
Yehudis Schiller,
August 23, 2007 9:38 AM

Excellent and meaningful-- inspiring article by Gila Davids.

This article has so much meaning and inspiration. She is an excellent writer. I hope to see more of her work!

(9)
Anonymous,
August 21, 2007 7:15 PM

recognizing the wake-up call

There are so many challenges that come with the decision to adopt and live a more observant life. How wonderful to read of a family that met with such positive role models on their journey, who helped them meet and surpass their challenges. At first it appears there is so much that you give up (from the secular world) ... and then you realize it doesn't compare to all that you gain in coming closer to Hashem.

(8)
Saeed Saidian,
August 21, 2007 1:42 PM

This article has been written by a great teacher!

These are HOLY mothers like Gila (and B'H' her dear daughters)who garantee the continuation -and survival- of the Jwish Nation.WHO ELSE? WHO ELSE?

(7)
Ora,
August 21, 2007 9:03 AM

chicken

Most people I know who haven't actually seen kapparot assume that a terrified chicken is held by its feet and swung wildly about. This is not true. In my experience, the chicken is held gently but firmly and moved in small circles. The chicken barely seems to notice, let alone fear. I see no reason to call this animal cruelty, especially given the fact that 99.9% of chickens are killed and eaten. If we accept that chickens can be used for human consumption, why not use them for our spiritual needs as well?

(6)
Moshe,
August 21, 2007 8:00 AM

no pain

It doesn't hurt the chicken. They don't grab the chicken by the head and swing it aroung their heads, thereby breaking its neck. Rather, it is done quite gently, and the chicken is unharmed. After that, the chicken is slaughtered. And it is slaughtered in a much more humane way that the chickens that appear on most people's plates. However, I still don't support Kapparot (neither did Yosef Karo or Ramban), however, if people want to do it, I don't think it is inhumane. However, people who can't stand the idea of actually handling, or slaughtering the food that they eat, will still be repulsed.

(5)
bonita henderson,
August 20, 2007 11:26 PM

about the beating heart

I know, I felt so bad for the chicken...it is a cruel world that we are on, and we have the obligation and the opportunity to make this a far better world.Sometimes I wonder if HaShem feels hurt and disgust when he looks at us earthly critters.

(4)
Anonymous,
August 20, 2007 11:38 AM

The ripple effect on your decision.

This was really an excellent and thought provoking article. My husband and I also made the decision some years ago to look into our Jewish heritage and commit to a Torah way of life. We put our only child into an Orthodox day school - straight fro Public School at the age of 11. Today, she has a masters in Jewish education and teaches Judaics at a community day school, influencing countless children. She is married to a rabbi who is in medical school and has two beautiful children, the first about to start day school. All this because my husband and I made a decision to explore our Jewish heritage. The assimilation stopped with us... we took responsibility to educate ourselves and started the ball rolling down our future generations. What an awesome responsiblity and what a blessing.

(3)
Sharona,
August 20, 2007 4:23 AM

good message

When we do kapporot, we use money (18cents) and then put it in a tissue And say the attonement prayer.

I like your message about education. If we want our Jewish family line to continue, then we need to educate our children so they know the significance of their heritage.

(2)
ruth housman,
August 19, 2007 1:31 PM

the choices we make

I had trouble reading further when I read about the twirling of a live chicken? Why? Well for me, part of my Judaism and my faith is a respect and concern for all life and for me, I was feeling the confusion and hurt of that poor animal. Now I do believe in traditions but I also believe in a greater morality and that is, to consider the animals, the birds, the trees, and to act with humanity towards all. So I got stopped right here and I will see that scene of the little girls and the chicken twirling forever as a sad scene because for me, why is it that nobody once thought about that beating heart?

(1)
Anonymous,
August 19, 2007 9:29 AM

You Chose the Right Path

How lucky for your children (& for Klal Yisrael) that you made the choice to give your children a Jewish education and that the school you chose gave you the necessary support. Unfortunately, in recent years, many Orthodox yeshivot won't accept students whose parents aren't observant to their level. When I went to yeshiva 40 years ago (my parents were holocaust survivors), we had many girls who came from non religious homes. Those of us who came from religious homes never shunned those who were less religious. Our teachers (& parents) taught us to love each other because we are all Jewish. They were always welcome in our homes. But just about 20 years ago the tide changed. Yeshivot became more discriminating in who they accepted. If a woman didn't wear a sheitel, she couldn't send her child to certain yeshivot; if you had a TV, a child couldn't go to a certain yeshiva. In fact, if your child was accepted (because you hid the TV) & the parents found out you had a TV, they wouldn't let their child "play" with your child. My sister, for instance, didn't allow her son to be "friends" with my brother's son because my brother had a TV and my sister thought it would be a bad influence on her son. They both could have gained from a relationship. The rigidity of these yeshivot turn more children (as well as their parents) off to remaining religious than they think. Perhaps if we accepted & loved each other just because we're all Jews we wouldn't see so much hate from the "outside" world. How could non Jews accept us if we don't accept our co-religionists?

I want to know about the concept of "sin" due to Adam and Eve eating from the Tree of Knowledge. The Christian concept of sin revolves around the fall of the man and the "original sin." Does Judaism view it the same way?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Adam and Eve were punished according to their actions. In other words, God laid down the conditions for Adam and Eve to live in the garden, provided they would not eat from the Tree of Knowledge. However, if they were to eat from that tree they would be punished by experiencing death. (If they had not eaten from the tree, they would have remained immortal.)

This sets down the basic principle in Judaism of Reward and Punishment. Basic to this is that every person has the choice of doing good or bad. When a person chooses "good" – as defined by God – he is able to draw close to God. In other words, every individual has a chance to "gain salvation" through his own actions.

My understanding of Christianity, however, is that the Original Sin has infected all of mankind to the point where individuals are incapable of achieving salvation through their own initiative. Man is "totally depraved" and therefore his only hope of salvation is through the cross.

This belief is contrary to the teachings of Judaism. From the Torah perspective, an individual does not need to rely on anyone else to atone for them. In Judaism, sins can be "erased" altogether by sincere repentance and a firm resolution never to repeat the mistakes.

For more on this, read "Their Hollow Inheritances" by Michael Drazin – www.drazin.com

Yahrtzeit of Moses in 1273 BCE (Jewish year 2488), on the same day of his birth 120 years earlier. (Consequently, "May you live to 120" has become a common Jewish blessing.) Moses was born in Egypt at a time when Pharaoh had decreed that all Jewish baby boys be drowned in the Nile River. His mother set him afloat in a reed basket, where he was -- most ironically -- discovered by Pharaoh's daughter and brought to Pharaoh's palace to be raised. When Moses matured, his heart turned to aid the Jewish people; he killed an Egyptian who was beating a Jew, and he fled to Midian where he married and had two sons. God spoke to Moses at the Burning Bush, instructing him to return to Egypt and persuade Pharaoh to "let My people go." Moses led the Jews through the ten plagues, the Exodus, and the splitting of the Red Sea. Seven weeks later, the Jews arrived at Mount Sinai and received the Torah, the only time in human history that an entire nation experienced Divine revelation. Over the next 40 years, Moses led the Jews through wanderings in the desert, and supervised construction of the Tabernacle. Moses died before being allowed to enter the promised Land of Israel. He is regarded as the greatest prophet of all time.

Lack of gratitude is at the root of discontent. In order to be consistently serene, we must master the attribute of being grateful to the Creator for all His gifts. As the Torah (Deuteronomy 26:11) states, "Rejoice with all the good the Almighty has given you." This does not negate our wanting more. But it does mean that we have a constant feeling of gratitude since as long as we are alive, we always have a list of things for which to be grateful.

[Just before Moses' death] God said to him, "This is the Land that I promised to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob" (Deuteronomy 34:4).

The Midrash says that Moses pleaded to live long enough to be able to enter the Promised Land. He surrendered his soul only after God instructed him to enter Heaven and inform the Patriarchs that the Israelites had come to their Land and that God had indeed fulfilled His promise to give the Land of Israel to their descendants. To fulfill God's will was dearer to Moses than his craving to enter the Land.

It is only natural to cling to life, and the thought of leaving this world is depressing. However, if a person develops the attitude that he lives only in order to fulfill God's will, then life and death are no longer polar opposites, because he lives to do the will of God, and when that will requires that he leave this world, he will be equally obedient.

The seventh day of Adar is the anniversary of Moses' death. He wanted to enter the Promised Land so that he could fulfill the commandments and thereby have a new opportunity to fulfill the Divine wish. He surrendered his soul willingly when he was told that there was a special commandment for him to perform, one that could only be achieved after leaving this earth.

We refer to Moses as Rabbeinu, our teacher. He not only taught us didactically, but by means of everything he did in his life - and by his death, as well.

Today I shall...

try to dedicate my life to fulfilling the will of God, so that even when that will contradicts my personal desires, I can accept it with serenity.

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